Charming the Snake
by Que-The-Music
Summary: When Marcella moves from Beaxbatons to Hogwarts, she doesn't expect to fall in love. Not with Draco Malfoy at least. But love is love. Only no one said it would be easy, especially since she's in Gryffendor.
1. Prolouge

**May I start off by saying thank you a ton for reading this! It's my first Harry Potter fic so be kind!**

**Enjoy!**

Marcella Debuet stared out the window of the Hogwarts Express, her eyes not able to penetrate past the thick layer of fog clouding the outside sky. Her palm was pressed up against the misty glass, fingers outstretched so that they made little trails in the moisture there. Even though she was turned the opposite direction, she could feel the eyes of the anoying little first year and his friend boring in to her back. It was obvious that the insolant little boys had either never seen a veela up close before, or they were just enjoying the veiw. Whichever it was, she was getting seriously ticked off. Elle mentaly slapped herself for assuming that "a few little boys couldn't be that bad to sit by," when she had chosen her seat.

Marcella, in one swift motion, turned her head with a neat grace, causing her silvery hair to brush across one of the boys face. He broke out in a large grin.

"m'excuser," she cooed flirtatiously, "I em very very hun-gary. Vould you go get me some. . um. . .plairirs?"

The boy smiled all the more to the fact that she was talking to her, but also looked confused.

Elle racked her brain for some connection to her broken english. She jangled her silk change purse. "um. . .treats?"

The boys eyes brightened in realazation of what the french girl was saying. Quickly he jumped up, pulling his friend with him as he bolted out in to the corridor. Marcella breathed a sigh of relief, only stopping to straighten her blue Beaxbatons dress and hat and run her fingers through her perfect cornislk hair before turning out in to the hall herself. Making sure to take the opposit direction as the two obnoxious little boys, she started down the hall at a brisk, but graceful, pace.

"Le petit marmot insolent!' she muttered under her breath as the continued down the hall. She told herself that she was walking to give people a chance to see her. "So they have reason to talk when I turn up in their school." But truely she was walking to have some sense to control. That was really what she needed. With a mother who only cares about her own petty troubles, and sends you off to a school in another country just because she got in a little spat with your headmistress. And a father who spends half his time with other women even though he has a veela for a wife. Elle needed some sort of structure.

She continued walking until she felt a little better, and then settled in to an empty compartment. Laying her head against the cold window, she fell asleep.

D&M

The hard heels of Marcella's shoes made sharp clicking noises that echoed through the halls, bouncing off the wals and ringing clear. Clutched in her hand was a crumpled timetable and map. She had just come from Headmaster Dumbledore's office where Professor McGonagle had met her. After placing a horrid old hat on her head (Elle was extreamly frightened when the hat began talking to her, half of which she couldn't understand, and even more frightened when it yelled Gryffindor! right in her ear.) A severly startled Marcella was given her papers and told to find the Great Hall. With a little help from a directional charm, Elle found it with little pain.

Now she stood outside the large wooden doors, waiting. She wasn't scared. She was just waiting. Finally, with a deep breath, she pushed the heavy doors open with a flourish. Every head turned as she stepped in. Her head held high she walked down the isle. The grace came naturaly.

Professor Dumbledore was cut off half way through what seemed to be the year's introduction.

"Magic will be pro-"

Marcella just continued to walk, looking over the tables at the people. Everyone was looking at her with either admiration or lust. . everyone but one.

A boy, who looked about seventeen, sitting at a table washed in green. He had pale skin and blonde hair, with vibrant grey eyes that seemed to bore into her. His jaw was cleanched in what would have made anyone else look horrid, but just made this boy look all the more gorgous. But what puzzled and even frightened Marcella was the way he was looking at her. It wasn't with lust or admirataion. Elle would have been fine with either of those, she was used to that at least. But this was somehting different. He was looking at her with understanding. Like he knew everything about her. All her thoughts and dreams. She wasn't used to that. No one ever got to know her like that. Everyone just liked her for her beauty. Quickly she turned away.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, may I indroduce Miss Marcella Debuet, she will be joining us here at Hogwarts from Beaxbatons." McGonagle passed through the doors quietly and gave Dumbledore a nod. "She has been sorted in to Griffendore house, please make her feel welcome!"

Cheers erupted from all around, mostly from a table of gold and crimson. After a few curtsies for good measure, she turned to the table to sit. It didn't surprise her that most of the boys pushed to make room for her and how the girls looked at her with envy. She was used to it, but didn't really like it.

The rest of what the Headmaster said went in one ear and out the other. As the feast started and people began to talk, she was only vaugly aware of what was being said to her. She kept stealing glances at the boy. Every time she looked at him, he was looking at her, string at her, but with that same focused stare. As a shiver crept up her spine, Marcella closed her eyes. How was she going to survive a year if she couldn't even make it through a night?

**ok, just to clear some things up, yes, this takes place when Ginny is in 5th year and Harry and sigh Draco are in 6th year, (making the sigh Weasly Twins in 7th year. Yes, it follows the books but frankly I don't give a crap if The Weasly Twins leave in their 6th year. I love them too much! And they are a crucial part of this story! Which will get better and longer I promise. Just to let you know, I want at least one reveiw (just for input and critasism (hom do you spell that?) before I continue. btw, I just got a new laptop and I haven't installed spell check, but my bff checked it over, so if should be ok. She's not flawless though :) thanks a ton just for reading this!**

**I love reviewers!**

**Love,**

**Sarah**


	2. The Snake

**The Snake**

**Disclaimer: I own Harry Potter**

**You: Really?**

**Me: nope. . .I wish. . .If I did, Harry Would be dead by now. . .**

**Anyway, here's chappie #2. I tend to listen to music when I write, so if you want some sort of an idea as to what kind of relationship Marcella has with her mother or just Elle in general. . .Because of you, Kelly Clarkson. Moving on. I promise this will be better than the prolouge. There will be more dialouge. (btw. it's Elle, as in pronounced just like the Letter L. Anyone who pronounces it Ellie will be cyber shot and then burned.)**

" Zut, Chier, l'Enfer!" Marcella let loose another string of profanitys in her native tounge as she tried another wrong attempt at the password to get in to the common room.

"Now Now! A saucy mouth will get you nowhere missy!" chided the Fat Lady in the portrait.

Elle just glared at the her.

"Ow in zee 'Ell am I supposed to know zee password?" she yelled at the portrait. The Fat Lady just crossed her arms in close-mouthed resolve.

"um. . .ow about . . .Dumblydore?" she tried again.

"Nope!" said the Fat Lady with what seemed like glee.

Marcella came unglued. With a strangled scream she threw a punch at the portrait with her petiet fists. The Fat lady drew away, aghast at this unlady-like display.

"You vat old 'ag!" she yelled at the mobile painting.

"Did ya hear that George? New girl jus called dear ol' Plumpie a Fat ol Hag!" a voice rang out from behind her. She turned to see two identical boys standing right behind her. They had bronze hair and golden eyes that held the same smile that was playing on their lips.

"Actually, Fred, I believe it was more, 'Vat old 'Ag. Same concept though." said the one on the left. For the first time in a long while Elle found herself smiling, just a bit, but then it was gone.

"I don't know zee password and this 'ag won't let me een." Elle cried in desparataion.

"Well then, can't have a pretty lady outside," said Fred.

"Too right." replied George.

"Fizzing Cauldrons."

With a reluctand sigh, the Fat Lady swung open to reveal a passageway.

Elle was confused. "Vot is a fizzing cauldron?"

"No idea," answered one of the twins.

"Up ya go then." One, or both (Elle couldn't tell) lifted her with a flourish in to the passage. As she walked through the tunnel like hall, she looked around. This school was nothing like Beaxbatons! At Beaxbatons everything was graceful and ladylike, here everything was a puzzle, or a trap. Marcella hadn't decided which. At the end of the tunnel was a large room filled with people, all garbed in crimson and gold. The beginning of the year was obviously a subject of celebration, because bottles of Butterbear were beng passed around and people were mingling and talking like old friends. Of course, all that had to stop the moment Elle passed through the arch leading in to the room. Everyone hushed instantly, talking instead in low whispers and tones. Gossip. Gosh Elle hated it.

For once Marcella felt akward. Usually the second the entered a room she was showered with praise and attention. She didn't lavish and use the attention like some of the power hungary witches at Beaxbatons, but at that moment she would have much favored it to the drooling and staring. She was new here, what did she do?

Luckily, Fred and George solved her predicament for her. In a swift motion they were on either side of her, linking each of her arms in to one of theirs.

"Thought 'bout walkin off on yur two saviors?' questioned George from her right.

Elle managed a no nod in her confused state.

"I should think not!" snorted Fred, "Where would you be without us?"

"I believe the answer to that would be: out in the coridor cursing and attacking the Fat Lady." mused George.

Marcella giggle in spite of herself.

The two twins led her swiftly over to a cluster of chairs huddled around a fireplace so big a person could stand in it. Occupying four of the thick chairs was a small group of teens. Two looked like they were related and when Marcella looked closely, she saw that they had a striking reseblence to her "Saviors."

"Ey Harry," called George.

"Hermione!"

"Gin,"

"Tag along Git." (Yep, deffinitly related)

'Tag along Git' swung playfully at George only to stop mid-swing when he saw who he was with.

"I would like you to meet Marcella Deboutendtegr. . or something like that." announced Fred to the small group. the two girls and a boy with jet black hair introduced themselves and exchanged a few kind words with Elle. The other boy however, a gangly red-head just sat there, mouth hanging open. His sister (Ginny) nudged him sharply with her elbow, a scowl on her face. Elle blushed hotly. She didn't want to be getting people mad already.

But Ginny gave her a warm smile and patted the spot on the loveseat next to her in a kind gesture. Elle smiled and gently pried loose of the resentful Weasly Twins' arms to go sit by her.

D&M

"So you were just standing there outside screaming?" asked Ginny later that night as the two girls sat on Ginny's bed.

Elle nodded.

"Eet was so agravation!" she cried.

"you mean agrivating?" asked Ginny.

"Yes, agrivating. You have quite gentlemenly brovers." commented the French girl.

Ginny snorted out a laugh in reply. "Yes, all six of them are quite up to date on their manners."

"Six!" cried Elle, "Your parents ave a vot of spare time!"

Ginny burst out laughing.

In the few hours that they had spent together, Ginny had felt a bond forming between she and Marcella. Once she got past her broken english and beauty, she found that not all her assumptions about veela were quite right. She and Elle even had quite a few similar intrests.

"So, it's pretty aparent that you have just about every guy drooling at your feet. See anyone you like?"

Marcella blushed deep red as she thought of the strange boy. Ginny noticed.

"OOOOOOOO I see I have hit a nerve. Come on. Tell me!"

"Eet iz nothing, really. Just some boy was looking at me today."

Ginny snorted a bit under her breath. "You're going to have to be a little more specific."

Marcells giggled a bit when she thought about what she had said. She looked a Ginny's face for a hint of jealousy, but saw none. She was deffinitly not in France anymore.

"I mean. . .vell, ee looked at me. . .differently. . .I cannot explain it." Elle stood to go to her own bed.

Ginny rolled over and tucked herself deeply in the folds of her quilt. "Well, if you seem him tomorrow, point him out."

Elle did not respond. Instead she turned to her open trunk. "UGH! Are these dee awful tingz we wear all day?" she help a pair of black robes with the Gryffendor emblem on them between her thumb and index finger.

Ginny smiled. "Those are them."

"Ich!" Elle dropped them like one might drop a dead mouse and they fell in a heap on my pile of neatly stacked clothes in her trunk. With that, she turned and jumped in to her own bed. Pushing the Slytherin boy out of her mind. For then.

"Elle. . .Elle. . .Marcella." Ginny nudged the sleepy girl awake.

"Vat! Vat!," Marcella slurred sleeply, rolling back over nad ducking under the covers once again.

"Come on, " Ginny prodded her, we have to go to breakfast. You have to get up."

Elle kept her eyes closed but sat up, yawning widly. "It iz ugly robe time?" she asked groggily.

Ginny laughed. "Yes, ugly robe time."

With only miminal help from Ginny, Elle got up and dressed splashing a little cod water on her face to wake her up even more. Of course, she didn't need to do anything for make-up or beauty work, so in a matter of about twenty minutes, she was all ready to go to classes. She just wasn't completely awake. Ginny couldn't help smiling a bit at her friends exausted state. "Not much of a morning person, are you?"

"Morning person? No. I a sleep person. Ugh!" she groaned, "My ugly robes are all wrinked!"

"That's what you get for dropping them in a heap. Now come on, I'm hungry."

At breakfast, Marcella sat with the same small cluster as the night before. Of course, the second she stepped in the Great Hall, she was surrounded by the Weasly Twins and led to a partially vacant table. Talking to the two of them was so confusing! One would begin, the other would add, the other finishes. It was like a talking ping pong match. She barely had time to understand what one Weasly was saying before the other one continued where he had left off. Finally she stopped listening altogether, deciding instead to nod every once in a while in a gesture of understanding, and spend her true attenion looking for the boy.

She looked all up and down the green table, looking for a hint of his pale skin and light hair. But he wasn't there. She was just baout to turn to Ginny and describe him to her, when she saw him. Swiftly, he walked in to the Great Hall, his black and green cloak billowing out behind him as he went. His finly chisled face and eyes were steely with a hardness. But they didn't look unpenetrable. With a turn of his head, he searched the Gryffendore table, eyes moving switly until they stopped, perfectly locked with her's. There was that same look, the one of understanding, the whole of it was enough to make Elle gasp. Ginny looked at her, "You Ok?" she asked.

"Yes, I em fine. . someone jus. . .frighten me. Things are not like Beaxbatons 'ere." Said Elle a little too quickly.

Ginny furrowed her brow and studdied Elle's face before turning back to her conversation with Harry. Elle looked back at the boy. He was seated now, but still looking at her, a smile was even playing at the corner of his lips, as is he found her reaction to her amusing. With one last look at his perfect features, a very confused Elle turned back to the Weasleys, who were now talking about something to do with gunpowder.

D&M

"Well, did ya find him?" asked Ginny as she and Marcella walked through the crowded halls on their way to Deffence against the Dark Arts.

"Um. . .no. I didn't see him." she lied, not making eye contact.

Ginny studdied her face before grinning. "You are a terrible liar. Fine, I give, don't tell me." She feghined a hurt expression. "But promise that I'm the first one you tell when you finally do come out with it."

Elle nodded. "Promise." She reached in her bag to retrieve her wand before they got to the room. Her hand only felt the paper of a few books and the soft fabric of the inside of her bag.

"Condamner!" she was making a bad habit of swearing, something she rarely ever did. She turned to Ginny, "I can't find my wand!"

"D' ya think it's in the common room?" asked Ginny, her eyes wide.

"No, I out eet een my bag before we left. Maybe eet fell on the way?"

"Let's hope not, then we'd never find it. Maybe in the Great Hall?"

Elle nodded.

"D' you want me to come with you?" asked Ginny as she glanced toward the door to the class that was now just beginning.

"No, someone az to tell er where I am. You go, I can fin' my way."

Ginny nodded and they each turned their own ways.

Marcella made her way at a light run to the Great Hall that was, by now, deserted. She looked over the long Griffendore table, searching for a trace of her silvery red wood wand. When she didn't find it on the tabletop or the bench, she reluctantly kneeled on the ground to look there. It was no where to be found. She was just standing to go look over by the Hufflepuff table when she ran straight in to something hard, and strangly like a wall. She felt herself falling and being caught at the same time. It had all happened so fast that she didn't realize until she looked up into his face, who had caught her.

Draco Malfoy smirked down at her.

One of his pale hands was against her back, cradling her and keeping her from falling. The other was placed delicatly at her waist. Shocked, she just looked at him, her mouth hanging open.

"Am I to take it that you need help standing as well?" he asked. Marcella blushed, standing at once and pulling herself away from his odd embrace.

_Keep yourself composed! _She told herself. _Marcella Giselle Debuet does not get embarassed!_

She turned back to Draco, startled to see that he had taken a step closer and was standing in an adorable slouch with a smirk on his face.

"Thank you very much Meester Malvoy for 'elping me up."

He just rolled his eyes, "Shouldn't yo be in class?" he sneered.

Marcella was stunned, never before had anyone had that reaction to her. She became flustered and even a bit angry.

"Shouldn't you?" she snapped in a way that only a veela could.

Draco grinned at this, she did not understand him. "Prefect." he said, pointing to a badge on his cloaks. Neither the word 'Prefect' nor the badge made any sense to Marcella, but she wasn't going to let him know that.

"Well zen, goodbye Meester Mayfoy and thank you again." even though it was a thanks it was said with fire, like a biting remark. But Draco stepped in front of her his tall frame blocking her petite. Brought his head right next to hers so that she could feel his whisper of breath in her ear.

"You may be needing this."

A chill ran up her spine as his cold hand gracefully placed her wand in her own trembling fingers. Without another word he turned and walked away in the opposit direction, leaving Marcella breathless, with her heart beating loudly in her ears.

**There we go. I know it's not the best, but it's a begining. And if you feel that the story is going to be to fast paced, don't. There is so much more to come!**

**Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed! It reallr, really means a lot!**

**Love,**

**Sarah**


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